


Was It Worth It?

by killiuas



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dead Monkey D. Luffy, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Multi, This Is Sad, but also fitting i can only see luffy dying end of story, depending on how you read, sighs, well he's dying not actually dead yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killiuas/pseuds/killiuas
Summary: “Was it worth it?” The boy reclined back in his seat, a rarely seen pensive look gracing his face, bare and exposed without his infamous straw hat concealing it. (Was it worth it?)
Relationships: Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks & Monkey D. Luffy, Coby & Monkey D. Luffy, Monkey D. Garp & Monkey D. Luffy, Monkey D. Luffy & Everyone, Monkey D. Luffy & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy & Sabo, Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107





	Was It Worth It?

**Author's Note:**

> (This was based off Mr Morj's recent theory where Luffy would hand himself to the marines at the end of the story)

“Was it worth it?”

The boy reclined back in his seat, a rarely seen pensive look gracing his face, bare and exposed without his infamous straw hat concealing it.

_Was it worth it?_

He thought of Zoro, on the brink of starvation with nothing but his anger and a single aspiration to fill him. His arms tied back painfully to the wooden cross. The boy beamed, his swordsman was now free, his goal finally attained. His first mate had decided to settle in Wano, a country previously littered with poverty and famine, the broken dreams of samurais stifling and rotting in the air. That was until the fall of Kaido. The young captain smirked, it was a fitting home for the world’s greatest swordsman, who at one time had only a single, dusted, onigiri to satiate him before joining him on his journey.

He thought of Nami brutally jabbing at her arm, blood covering every inch of the tattoo that branded her. He remembered her look of accomplishment as she proudly held up her finished map of the seas, her own tattoo shining brightly as it caught under the sun. She had returned home, to her village, the village that once paled at the mere mention of pirates, who now welcomed his navigator and the rest of them with open, accepting arms. The boy would never forget the sound of her laugh, twinkling through the wind as she distributed her carefully nurtured tangerines to the village children, along with calligraphy sets she had bought with the money they had gained over the course of their travels. She was at ease, and therefore, so was he.

He thought of Usopp, weaving tall tales to the rag tag group of kids he had first found solace in, to the once sickly girl who he now had taken as his wife. His tales were tall even now, not with deception, however, but with honour. With truth. His chest puffed, full of dignity as he relayed his numerous adventures to his own children, to his father who had a face-splitting grin. He slapped his son’s back, affection swimming in his eyes and, his sniper, his best friend, had never looked so happy. Never looked so confident. The young captain’s own grin only grew wider at the sight, remembering his crewmate’s stuttered declaration to become a brave warrior of the sea. And _that_ , he most definitely was now.

He thought of Sanji, of the shy, hesitant smile creeping on his face as he voiced his dream. That same face now wore a smile so wide, light with not a single worry. His cook emanating with pride as he cut the ribbon in front of his restaurant. The first and only restaurant to ever grace the mythical All Blue. He remembered Sanji's band of old cooks and his old man futilely attempting to hide their tears by his side, his own throat thick with emotion. The captain kept up to date with every review his cook's restaurant received. _Ironic_ , as it was an action from someone who had once shown no interest in the news, other than when viewing his own bounty. It was the least he could do for the finest cook in all the seas. For his nakama. For one of his _own_.

He thought of Chopper, hiding fearfully behind the safety of his old lady’s legs. Nowadays he stood squarely, shoulder to shoulder with her, inspiring her and the several doctors that worked at his hospital. His body radiating, glowing even, as he shared experiences and medical knowledge only known to someone who had set sail with the Pirate King himself. The boy felt his heart swell with adoration. His doctor truly was a paragon. He wasn’t the monster he had once angrily proclaimed to his future captain, the chill of Drum Island's freezing wind furiously scratching his cheeks. _No._ He was the greatest doctor in the world. He was his crew's doctor.

He thought of Robin, her limp body, as she lay dying in the Tomb of the Kings. Weakly accepting her reality, giving up on her dream. The boy's lips curled upwards as he remembered the sea of people sat cross-legged in front of his archaeologist, different generations, including the future, listening intently to the knowledge once hidden from the world, to the mistakes of the past. (Of Ohara). They would learn as he and his crew did when they finally reached the famed island of Laugh Tale (it never was called Raftel!) The young captain smiled softly, he was leaving the world in good hands — not that he ever did care for something as grand and huge as the world. He had other people to do that for him.

He thought of Franky, and his refusal to accept that he was building a ship for his _own_ captain. His bulky figure chasing them as they ran through the streets of Water 7 with his pants, his family and future crew all in cahoots against him. The boy remembered the way his face shone, brighter than any laser he could muster from his body, as people flocked to his home, to Water 7, in hopes of viewing the ship that carried the Pirate King. His family, Baka-berg and nakama all looking on fondly as he cried his eyes out at the sight of his fans who had gathered in a town full of people that once despised him. The young captain later found himself mouthing along, serenely, to the words of the makeshift song his shipwright strummed, as their crew's own musician joined in.

He thought of Brook. He would lose another captain, but it would be different this time. He had his nakama surrounding him, he wasn’t alone anymore. Not like the previous time. He had Laboon too, and the boy giggled, remembering the way his musician settled into the crook of the whale’s flipper, his violin tucked neatly by his side. Brook, after many long years, was finally home. He would be fine this time round. His captain had not even a shred of doubt about it.

He thought of Jimbei, his body chained to the same cell that once held his revered brother. His future helmsman had wasted no time in aiding him. He wore the same look of courage and determination as he faced Big Mom two years down the line, challenging her openly over the young boy, (for his captain). He remembered standing next to Jimbei as they gazed at the island he had been born and raised on, the island he had once inhabited. It was burning, destruction in every corner as the fortune-teller mermaid's prophecy had foretold (Madam... Madam?, the name escaped him). The look on his helmsman's face, however, was hopeful, trusting, and his captain knew why when he saw him smile warmly at him, standing with Yowahoshi and her family as they wept, finally seeing the unity that Joy Boy had promised eons ago come into fruition.

He thought of Yamato, his mask covering his face. A poor imitation, his brain had supplied. He thought of that same mask breaking in two, as his last crewmate stared his father defiantly in the face, bravely shielding the future shogun of Wano's small body. The captain remembered the excited way Yamato's hand would move as he scribbled every detail of their last few visited islands in his journal, fondness coursing through his veins as he recalled the action his logkeeper so often indulged in. Yamato, like Robin, would make sure the future generation had what they needed, taking care of others like Otama after him. She was such a strong little girl, regardless.

He thought of the cheers and tears shed the day the Red Line crumbled under his hands. He remembered every shout, every look, every headline published in its wake.

He thought of his fellow pirates, his fellow generation. Tra-guy, Jaggery, Bege, Hawkins, Bonney, and the many more who had tamed the wild seas alongside him. They would continue in his stead with the knowledge he had discovered. As would others. His fleet, his allies (Hammock, Carrot, Bon chan, Smokey, Katakuri...), his brother's old crew.

He thought of Sabo, pride burning his other brother’s features deeper and brighter than the flames encircling him. His father mirroring his expression beside him. Vivi, Rebecca, Yowahoshi, Dalton and Momonosuke (the brat who was a brat no longer), standing blazingly next to the pair. Tearful and fulfilled faces, looking up at him.

He thought of Ji-chan, and his fist that had struck down on his head far too many times for the boy to recall, his fist that was now a hand, cradling the back of his only remaining grandchild's head. It was a tenderness he didn’t know his grandfather was capable of — or perhaps he was, he just didn’t remember. (It had been a long time). He decided to welcome it greedily.

He thought of Dadan, the old hag was probably nursing a hangover with the rest of the bandits from the party they most likely threw when hearing of his exploit. He snickered. Makino was probably wiping the counter of the bar after them, humming lightly. Her eyes, and this the boy could say with absolute certainty, would have drifted to his first ever wanted poster. The one she displayed so proudly on the wall behind the counter.

He thought of Shanks, his red hair waving wildly around him in the wind. A green-haired toddler bouncing in his lap, as they sat on top of a grassy hill, in front of two graves. He thought of the relief, the pride, the affection on the older pirate’s face, as he glanced sideways to face him. He remembered the way the man watched him silently from the side when he hung their straw hat on top of the smaller grave, beside another worn down hat and set of red beads. The young boy knew he had lived up to the bet Shanks had placed on him, to the sacrifice of his arm the Lord of the Coast had taken with him — when the crowned Pirate King was nothing more than a mere child that needed saving.

He, at last, thought of a freckled face, one he hadn’t seen in years, in far, _far_ too long. A face he ached to see with each day that passed when he woke while the other didn’t. It was a face he would be meeting soon. His brother, _of course_ , would be disappointed at their early reunion, perhaps would even whack him one. But it was fair, wasn’t it? After all he had given his life up for the boy who, in exchange, had selfishly traded his years away for him, to save him. Not caring about the consequences. Not stopping to think about any possible regrets that would later come with the bargain, the stakes of his older brother’s life far too high, far more important.

(“ _So listen up Luffy. No matter what, we have to live a life with no regrets._ ”)

He indeed had no regrets besides the one. He would be facing that regret soon enough anyway. Ace always was his intended point of return ( _his_ home), he had decided that when he set out to sea after him, and that hadn't changed, not even once. In spite of all that happened, of all the years that had passed.

He was actually just returning to his respective home.

And so, the boy leant forward in his seat. He locked eyes with the pink haired marine he had once challenged to chase his dream, and dared to call a friend, when had first started his journey.

  
Finally, he answered his question.

“Yeah it was. It was worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> holds head in hands


End file.
